


The Ineffable Encounter

by Kharis



Series: Better together [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Light Canon Divergence, Panic Attacks, Protective Hastur, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, but not too much, like I took some liberties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 20:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20234050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kharis/pseuds/Kharis
Summary: Following up from "The Effable Plan"https://archiveofourown.org/works/19873570Hastur decides to live in London and, when last he suspect, he finally found his angel.Based on the idea: https://kharismon.tumblr.com/post/186255935339/kharismon-kharismon-i-was-thinking-what-ifWhat if all demons might be “nice” if they’ve got an angel? What if the big “no-no” in getting them together is because, at the end, they will not be able to hurt each other, if they know each other?I'm not an english native speaker, so I apologize in advance if I've brutally butchered the language ^^"





	The Ineffable Encounter

It wasn't bad, after all. Hastur found himself glad of the talking with that odd couple: now he was living in London, sometimes hanging out with that two "natives" and enjoyed himself very much. But, his primary objective (Find an angel -> get him to love him -> ??? -> profit) still eluded him: he tried a lot, as he glanced down to the piece of paper, where he had been writing his ideas  
  
1) <strike>Abduct an angel</strike>, first one and scrappend seconds after. He could not force someone to love him, it's the very opposite thing (he had indeed passed a lot of time in Aziraphale's bookshop, researching and documenting, all the romance and love in general seemed very complicated and exhausting)  
  
2) <strike>Surprise an angel</strike>, well, he tried that. But, turns out that "jumping out from a bush and yelling" did not work the charm. Also, he couldn't start a fucking normal conversation that didn't begin with "what on Heaven do you want, disgusting creature?" so... yeah, a little set back.  
  
3) <strike>Dance with an angel</strike>, he recalled the terrified expression on Aziraphale's face and crossed out this one too. Also because Crowley was tring to convince that was a perfect idea, so obviously was a very bad one.  
  
4) ... nothing. Hastur sighed, lolling the head backward while sitting on a bench, a box of pastries in his lap, partially eaten. He was not... good at this. Hell, he was not good, period. After a while, he decided that self pity (although very interesting) wasn't working, crumpled the useless paper in his pocket and kept savouring the sweets: at least those gave him some joy.  
  
\---------------  
  
Months passed and all the "try and get an angel" business passed in second plan. He was really experimenting life on Earth and, oh boy, it was glorious. Returning home, one night after a very funny karaoke with some blokes he knew (humans weren't that bad, after all), he heard something: someone was... wrestling with some trashcan, launching them with a force a little excessive for a human. The other thing strange was that apparently no one apart from the demon heard a thing, all continuing to pass without a glance. Coming near, all senses up, he tried to see what the matter was and, well, it was a little unsettling. There was an angel, no, an archangel in that alley, completely out of her mind. Michael was trashing down the place, a full blown panic attack (the Duke knew well) until she finally stop and curled in a damp corner, rocking softly on her spot.  
It was... heartbroking to witness. Hastur mind went blank, for a moment, and his body react without thinking, approching the creature on the ground  
  
<You useless thing, you're a fucking disgrace, you don't deserve anything, you useless thing, you fucking...>  
  
For a moment the demon thought he was spotted, and all the awful words were directed to him, like always. But, and it made him froze on the spot, Michael didn't even notice him. She was talking about herself, digging her nails deep in her shoulders, making them bleed. instinctively, Hastur came down on her, grasping her hands and keeping them still, even though this hurted him instead: the archangel was insanely strong.  
That movement finally snapped out Michael from her trance, but her gaze was unfocused and lost when she looked at the demon  
  
<Wha...?>  
  
<Shhh... you'll be ok. You're not now, but you will be ok.> said the Duke, in a whisper, trying to smile despite the acute pain. Michael started to cry and sob, a hot line of tears running down her cheeks, while she stopped crushing the hands of the demon and launched herself on his chest, clawing and gasping like a drowing man that tried to stay afloat. Hastur let her, hugging back when she buried her face on his chest, trying to reassure the angel, murmuring soft words. Reacting again without thiking, he unfolded his wings, a cascade of deep brown feathers, encircling them in a gesture of protection  
  
<I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I really can't...> she kept saying, an infinite loop of apologies  
  
<What do you need?> the demon heard himself saying  
  
<I cannot... the smell... I... I'm so sorry, I need... I need to do a miracle, I can't... Oh Lord forgive me, I should've held him stronger, I left him Fall...> Michael started again to panic, gasping for air that she didn't need and sobbing. So, that was about... it didn't surprise Hastur, he well knew how that part of celestial history weighted on both sides. A lot had nightmares (and still have) about that event, indifferently above or below. He started rocking them on the spot, trying to help her come down from the attack: they were in an awkward position but thanks to the charm, no one came and disturb them.  
  
After several minutes, something changed in the posture of the archangel, she stirred, like she was awakening. He folded the wings back, with a quick gust of air  
  
<Before you can smite me or crush me more, please don't, I came in peace. You didn't look very well, someone needed to protect those poor trash cans from your divine wrath> Hastur said, and was rewarded with a little huff on his chest, maybe a start of a weak laugh. Michael looked up, eyes swollen and red, but present to herself  
  
<Sorry for the trouble, usually there aren't active... agents in this part of town, no one notices me> she explained, starting to taking some distance. The loss of contact startled the demon: he hugged her for a long time, and didn't disturb him in the slightest, that was odd. He pushed away the thought  
  
<Nah, I don't mind. I'm here more like... on vacation, let's say. Now that the Plan is no more, well, we have a lot of free time, you know?> a little chuckle to clear his throat, unusually tight and dry <Sooooo... you was saying something about a miracle?>  
Michael went stiff and reached out, grasping the arms of the Duke, like she was grounding herself, trying to avoid losing her mind again  
  
<Ok, ok, take a deep breath. Just... just, look, I know this shit and, well, is fucked up. Let's say... let's say I do it, ok? Point me the right direction and I will figure something out. Like, a district and I will bless the fuck out of all the bastard in it, so they will give you a very shiny star award for exceptional service> he knew very well that angels didn't like profanities, and Michael gave him a very stern look at those words, but nonetheless a brief sign of relief started to blossom on her face. She patted the arms of the demon, before retracting again  
  
<It's... very kind of->  
  
<I AM NOT... ehm... thanks> saved at the last minute. Aziraphale taught him to take a compliment, not throw it in the face of the other. Baby steps. Michael huffed again, but this time her mouth did a lift upward  
  
<As I was saying, thank you. But I cannot allow a demon to do the work of an archangel, even if the demon in question is the famous Duke of Hell> she let out a little sigh, trying to get up, succeeding only because Hastur helped (a little, just in case, not only because it would allow him to touch her again, preposterous)  
  
<You cannot go there again. You are hurting yourself like this> he was really lecturing an archangel? He pressed a hand on the back of his head, clearly unconfortable <I mean... don't do this to you, please. Let me help>  
  
Michael seemed... lost, again. She was watching the demon like he suddently had growth a second head  
  
<You want... to help... me? Why?> her tone didn't have the normal revulsion of an angel that speaks with a demon. She was genuinely baffled at the offer  
  
<No catch, I promise. Let's say... it's a favor, alright?> Hastur sensed her uneasyness. He didn't need to have celestial powers to see that the creature in front of him was trying to make sense of a situation that was new, uncharted, maybe also dangerous. He offered her an escape: nothing personal, only an exchange of divine favors, it wasn't unusual.  
  
<Uhm... a literal pact with a devil? Well, considering how the world went upside down in the past weeks... an old priest, blind, always on the path of the Lord, a life of devotion and holiness and and his wife that...>  
  
<Dove, you don't need to sell me the product, cut to the point> Hastur interrupt, with a annoyed huff, sarcastic, just to keep the angel on tracks. He well know how eternally long their chats was, Aziraphale could talk for hours. Michael blushed, it was quick and swift, but it caught the eye of the demon, still on his toes to prevent another attack. Maybe he really bothered her with his large, stupid mouth, but when he was about to start apologizing, the other kept talking  
  
<Ehm... thank you... I mean, he's about to lose their home. My job was to miracle them a winning lottery ticket, not the full prize but enough to live a decent life> she concluded. Nothing too serious, then why she was in that awful state earlier? The question (Hastur would never said aloud) was clearly written on his face and Michael shuddered again  
  
<When I... I went there... he... she... forgot something in the oven... I think it was chicken or something... the... smell of burning flesh... I...> the archangel started to breath heavily again but when the Duke approached to hold her, he found himself launched away, with supernatural strenght, landing on the already abused trash cans. When he got up, massaging his back (that really wasn't hurting... he _miraculously_ landed on a soft old cushion), he saw the other bent over, vomiting on the road: the smell was unmistakable and made the demon shiver in terror  
  
<Holy puke, that's new> he tried to joke, but his voice was shaky like him. Michael cleaned all up with a quick snap of the fingers and looked at the Duke with an expression of... concern?  
  
<Oh Lord, are you ok? I... yes, I wasn't thinking straight, it came out before I could stop it. That's why I pushed you away, are you alright?>  
  
<Yes, dove, don't worry. Maybe next time don't launch me in the orbit, a few steps away it's more than ok. So... blind old guy, lucky ticket, got it. Where I can find you after? To tell you that everything worked out, if you want> Hastur count on his fingers, casually looking away but noticing the renewed colour on the cheeks of the archangel. He too was a little embarassed at the moment, but tried to play it cool  
  
<I... don't know, I don't spend time on Earth> admitted the angel, looking down <But... but I'd like to wait for you, somewhere, I simply don't know where> she concluded, rapidily, a little too much to be honest. Hastur chuckled and cleared his throat with a cough  
  
<Well... there is a nice pub, not far from here. I know the owner, he'll treat you well. Order what you want, it's on me> he explained, pointing in the direction of the local. After that, he winked and disappear.

\-----------------------  
  
When Hastur was done and appeared in the pub, was shocked to actually see Michael there. She was clutching a glass of liquid, maybe alcohol, lost in her thoughts  
  
<Done and done! Mister holy priest and is wife will have a lovely life and the woman in the apartment downstairs will cheat on his husband. Just to don't arise suspects. Don't worry, the bugger is a pig with her, he deserves it> started to say, miracling a bottle of his favourite whiskey <Are you ok, dove?>  
  
Michael smiled, but her eyes were teary  
  
<I don't know how to thank you, Hastur. It was... sorry... but it was so nice of you> sobbed, unable to contain the relief <I... I was scared to tell someone, like Gabriel always say "we are fucking archangels", Lord knows how much I hate when he says it. I'm supposed to be a guide, an example to follow and instead... Look at me! I'm a mess, I need to be helped by a demon because I'm not able to do a simple task, for a stupid smell. A smell triggered me! It was... an oven, for Christ's sake, I'm a garbage archangel> she gulped down the glass and filled again, before the other could speak  
<You know how many times it happened? I'm so tired of everything, I really looked forward the Apocalipse because I tought that maybe I could find him and apologize, maybe he would put me out of this misery> she trailed off, downing another glass and refilling it, Hastur stopped her, grabbing her wrist. For a moment, he lost his words, her skin was so smooth and warm  
  
<You are not a disgusting thing, you matter. Yes, we maybe are on opposite sides, but you are not less than me. We can... be friends, if you like.> the same words that Aziraphale said to him, flowed down from his tongue. They seemed perfect, like they were for him when he needed them  
<You want to find someone of mine? I can help you. Maybe you can ask him forgiveness without being slain. You know, all the paperworks and all> the joke made the archangel laugh, even if it was bittersweet. She wipe out the tears but didn't remove the hand from Hastur's grasp  
  
<He... he cannot recognize me, a small grace upon the Fall. He doesen't know who he was and it's better this way. In the Apocalipse I would've remind him but... I heard that he is happy nowaday and it's all I can ask, really. My Raphael was the brightest star in all the cosmo... he created Alpha Centauri, you know?> she chuckled at the memory, returning fast at the present, to avoid losing herself in the nostalgia  
<I'd like to be your friend, Hastur, really. I'm glad you were there today, it was the first time that I didn't had to heal myself, not much at least. I felt... safe, after a long time> in a swift motion, she turned her hand, taking the one of the demon in hers.  
  
<Your wings are beautiful, by the way> she said again, when the silence protracted a little too long, seeing the Duke staring at their hands, completely stunned. That comment surely snapped him out, because a rush of redness surged on his cheeks  
  
<Oh, I, well, thanks I made them myself?> wow, much cool, so smooth. Hastur's brain was out of order, trying to process what was happening and his mouth didn't cooperate at all. Michael laughed again, this time was genuine, like a cristal tinkle that filled the demon's heart with something... he couldn't pinpoint it, or give it a name. It was a warmth in his stomach, a fluttering of some sorts. Maybe he was getting sick? Could he get sick? The whiskey was poisoned? It was all an archangel's trick to dispose of him? Something bad must be happening!  
  
But nothing did. He was enjoyng the night, with angelic company, no sudden lightning struck them, no pits of demonic fire swallowed them, nothing at all, if not laughs and chatters. When the dawn was near, Michael got up, sobering up  
  
<I need to go now, but we can meet again? Soon?> asked, a little embarassed. Hastur was fast on his feet too, eliminating the alcohol from his system  
  
<Sure thing, do... oh, fuck sorry, I didn't realize that I was calling you that, it's inappropriate, shit> he wanted to smash hard his head on the table and remove all the awkwardness of the situation with a swift discorporation. What was he thinking, calling an archangel with a stupid human petname? It was absurd. Michael smiled and gave a quick peck on Hastur's cheek with her lips, gentle and light  
  
<You really don't remember, you silly thing... you always called me that, before> she said, eyes like stars  
  
<Do you... remember me, from before?> the Duke asked, shocked. Michael nodded  
  
<Yes. I tried to keep... someone... safe from the Fall, I disobeyed God's orders to do so. I didn't Fall but I was cursed with the memory. I remember all, each one of you, who you were. All the other angels forgot, it was part of the Plan, evidently... not me. And even you aren't the angel you was before, you still found me when I was at my low. No one ever pass from that point, in centuries, I choose that spot to panic off, but you found me... how? Why?> she was really curious. What could he said? That was pure casuality that just that night he decided to try a new karaoke bar? That only in the afternoon changed the plans, because one of the humans proposed so? That there was no logic explanation of why he chose to walk home, instead of getting a cab like always? An unsure grin surfaced on his lips, as he offered Michael his arm to walk out  
  
<Well... it's Ineffable, I suppose>


End file.
